Myths, moons, and mayhem make the perfect threesome—and so do the men in this anthology.

Enjoy nine erotic stories of paranormal ménages a trois fueled by lust and magic, where mystical forces collide with the everyday world and even monsters have their own demons to conquer.

A werewolf gets a lust-fueled lesson on fitting in with the pack, a professor unlocks ancient secrets and two men’s hearts, and a pair of supernaturals find themselves at the erotic mercy of a remarkable human. Ghosts, fairies, aliens, and mere mortals test the boundaries of their desires, creating magic of their own.

Penned by favorite authors such as Rob Rosen and Clare London, as well as by newcomers to the genre, Myths, Moons & Mayhem is an eclectic mix of paranormal lust and polymythic beings that will spark your fantasies and fuel your bonfires.

Inside Man by Clare London—At a London pub, a tear in the veil between the dead and living opens up new possibilities for a ghost who could only ever watch the men he desired, but never touch.

The Secret of the Golden Cup by Rebecca Buchanan—A classics professor finds himself at the center of a magical war. With an unfairly attractive student and a campus janitor as his only allies, can he stave off the forces of evil?

When The Big Moon Shines by Carl Redlum—A college student is intent on hunting down the man who turned him into a werewolf. But his mouthwatering neighbors keep getting in the way.

Careful What You Wish For by Elizabeth Coldwell—Josh dreams of meeting Mr. Right, so his roommate offers help with a love spell. Neither man is prepared for what happens when the spell begins to work.

The Cave by Dale Cameron Lowry—Losing sleep to the sounds of his tent-neighbors’ nightly lovemaking has nature photographer Ethan at his wit’s end. What kind of magic can convince the two men he should join them?

The Endless Knot by Morgan Elektra—The fiery romance between a vampire and a werewolf threatens to burn itself to the ground until a human teaches them to temper the flame.

Squatchin’ by Greg Kosebjorn—Two Bigfoot hunters get more than they bargained for when they set out on an overnight camping trip to trail the legendary beast.

Celyn’s Tale by Rhidian Brenig Jones—A young Welsh farmer is haunted by visions of his future lover, only to discover that the lover is not one, but two—and not exactly human, either.

Close Encounter of the Three-way Kind by Rob Rosen—In this quirky comedy, aliens arrive from another galaxy, but they’re more interested in consensual exploration than invasion. Alien probing never felt so good!

Excerpt from “The Cave” by Dale Cameron Lowry in Myths, Moons, and Mayhem

About “The Cave”: Single nature photographer Ethan and his co-worker Heather are accompanying a group of paleontologists on a caving expedition in Madagascar when Heather and Mendrika, one of the scientists, fall into a rock fissure. After using his magic to save them, Ethan gets quite the passionate thank you from Mendrika and his husband Joseph.

This scene takes place while Mendrika and Heather are still stuck in the fissure. By the way, Mendrika is common a man’s name in Malagasy, the national language of Madagascar. It means “dignified” or “deserving.” His husband, Joseph, is French.

The only time I saw Joseph’s facade crack was late in the afternoon, when twilight began to bear down and he lost his grip on his flashlight. It tumbled into the pit, glanced Mendrika’s ear, then skittered past his shoulder into the darkness below.

“Merde!” Joseph swore.

Mendrika smiled as if he’d been given a kiss instead of a whack on the ear. “Tout ira bien, mon amour.” I only understood that the word “good” was in there and he’d called Joseph “my love,” but his tone was so reassuring that even without all the words, I got the drift.

“Comment le sais-tu?” How do you know?

Mendrika switched to English. “I’m sure someone has another flashlight.”

He looked around at his rescuers, like a groundhog peeking out of its den, waiting for someone to say they did. But his answer came from within the cave, not from above. “Ethan can help,” Heather said.

I could? What did Heather know that I didn’t? I patted my side pocket to check if I’d left a penlight in there. Nope. “My flashlight’s back at the camp.”

She rolled her eyes at me, the same expression she makes when her dog does something particularly stupid, like looking for dinner in the cat’s litter box. “Not your flashlight. Your light.”

Oh. Duh. That light. I turned to Joseph. “I can work with light a little. It runs in my family.”

Now it was Joseph’s turn to give me the you-are-stupid look. “Yes, you’re a photographer. What does that have to do with anything?”

“No, I mean…” I twiddled my fingers in what I hoped was a universal sign for magic. It was in the US. But waving at someone was a universal sign for “goodbye” in the US, and here in Madagascar, it meant “come here.”

As I feared would happen, Joseph stared at me blankly.

“Oh, merde,” I muttered. I lowered myself by the edge of the shaft and continued twiddling my fingers, but this time with purpose, aiming them toward where the flashlight had fallen. I was feeling for the strings of light, barely visible to the human eye, but still there.

There was a good chance my gift would fail me. It had the last time I’d tried it, when I’d been too lazy to put on my headlamp for a midnight piss and conjured up a ball of light. Only I couldn’t keep it going, and it disappeared on my way back to the tent. There’s nothing quite as fun as feeling your way back to your tent through brambles in the dark.

Still, it was worth a try. Better than leaving Heather and Mendrika stuck in a cave overnight.

I kept searching around, weaving my fingers through threads I knew were there, even if I couldn’t feel them yet.

My third finger landed on a string of light, thick like a bass guitar string. I plucked it and felt it resonate—a note so deep it was almost imperceptible. I slid up the string and plucked again.

This time, the note was obvious. Light swelled around Mendrika and Heather, filling the crevices between their bodies and the sidewalls of the cave.

The expression on Joseph’s face was an odd mix of disgust and elation. “You can control light? You didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“I don’t control it. I work with it. And I’m out of practice. Electricity is more dependable.”

Joseph muttered something in French that I’m pretty sure was an insult. I ignored it and plucked another string. Joseph went back to his work.

It was dark before the rescue was complete. I took a picture as Mendrika surfaced, dirt-stained and smiling. Joseph pulled him into a bear hug and burst into tears. So much for his stoicism. I kept the camera on them, drawn in by their sweet murmurings in French and Malagasy, Joseph’s stifled sobs, their kisses. My flash went off like a strobe, but they didn’t even seem to notice I was there.

About the Editor

Dale Cameron Lowry’s number one goal in life is getting the cat to stop eating dish towels; number two is to write things that bring people joy. Dale is the author of Falling Hard: Stories of Men in Love and a contributor to more than a dozen anthologies. Find out more at dalecameronlowry.com.

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